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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360946">nearly with you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/staccatoswings/pseuds/staccatoswings'>staccatoswings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Jancy Fic Week, Jancy week 2020, Post-Season/Series 03, small mentions of the rest of the found family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:07:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/staccatoswings/pseuds/staccatoswings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Something catches Nancy's eye, right under her bed. Right next to the bright pink notebook she'd been looking for for MONTHS. (She makes a mental note to invest in another shelf in the future.)</p>
<p>( for jancy week 2020: day 3: dor/reunion )</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>nearly with you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>im ngl i got very inspired by my own headcannon that the shirt that we first really see nancy wear in season 3, is of course jonathan's, but idk what possessed me to be like 'wait aw is it one of his concert shirts' when i first watched it, and yeah, that's sort of what kicked me into writing something involving that~<br/>(not to mention I'm pretty hype that i've been able to make at least a few things for this week, even if I end up missing one or two days?)</p>
<p>ALSO ALSO, i was once again /this/ close to naming this fic something else, but thanks to a couple great opinions from a couple buds, i decided to stick with this title c: (and besides i'll prob just use the other one for a different fic another day lol)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something catches Nancy's eye, right under her bed. Right next to the bright pink notebook she'd been looking for for MONTHS. (She makes a mental note to invest in another shelf in the future. Had a mountain of books collecting in the corner that would warrant it.)</p>
<p>But for now, determined as she is she shoves aside a couple of textbooks, coughs at the dust she picks up, and plucks up a shirt from out of it's hiding spot. Turns off her flashlight and yanks herself free from underneath the bed frame, shakes out the wrinkles, and puts it towards the light. </p>
<p>It's a dark grey, crew neck number that was clearly too large for her, with an iron-on emblem of some band she vaguely recognized on the front. Figures it's The Police, if she had to wager a guess, but she's not too sure. All she knows is that It's very soft beneath her fingertips, as she holds it to her chest.</p>
<p>Was this one of Jonathan's concert shirts? It had to be. It was all worn out, well loved. In fact it looked kind of like the same one she kept in the back of her closet. </p>
<p>Did she plan on giving it back? Probably not. </p>
<p>Sure she could mail it back to him, but where's the fun in that?</p>
<p>He could have it back, <em>when</em> he came back. </p>
<p>But really who was she kidding. It wasn't a matter of <em>if.</em> They<em> both</em> missed the other something fierce, so one of them was bound to crack, one of these days. Take the next greyhound and not look back. Well, not for forever, they'd miss their family being that far away, Jonathan even<em> more</em> so, but they would make do. </p>
<p>And Nancy, not always fond of the dramatics as of late, didn't always like to hold a candle to something she wasn't sure about. Not anymore.</p>
<p>But Jonathan? He was the exception.</p>
<p><em>Something</em> relating to fate has always had it's clutches on the both of them, even before a hole had been ripped through time and space. Back when all they were to eachother was just friendly acquaintances and shy smiles, waiting eachother out until they both reached the other's orbit.</p>
<p>There had to be a word for it. That feeling stirring in her chest when she breathes into the clump of fabric in her hands. How the cottons smell forges itself so redolent and deep in the recesses of her mind. Makes a home and digs and makes sure that she understands that this? Missing him, remembering him, won't go away with time. Life goes on, sure, and she'll keep her head held high and make sure that she doesn't slump around. Grow heavy with her grief. She was worth more to this world than just to wallow in her own sadness. </p>
<p>Despite all that, she knows that this, <em>break?</em> Nancy can't name a better word for it at the moment-- doesn't<em> mean</em> anything in the long run.</p>
<p>They're still together, <strike>yet<em> alone,</em> torn up and alone. </strike></p>
<p>But, among the music blaring from her speakers--<em> Blondie's <strong>The Hunter,</strong> whenever she needed to vent some shit out, she always plugged that in and let herself soak--</em> she knows that, even if her and Jonathan hit some more roadblocks, they'll be alright. The scar under her hand won't ever let her forget it. Nor the bloodstains in her dresses or on her shoes. (She knows they're all shot, that the muddy red will never quite come out.)</p>
<p>Nothing but the essentials really wants to stick, but the thoughts lodge themselves into the back of her mind for later, when she's in a mood to process it.</p>
<p>But for now, she takes a minute to place the scent hitting her hardest.</p>
<p><em>Was it the woodsy smoke smell from chopping away at cedar trees? Or his cologne,</em> she thinks idly.</p>
<p><em>Wait, no,</em> she thinks on an inhale.</p>
<p>It's the orange marmalade. Same stuff he spilled all over himself, when he came over for breakfast the day before he... yeah. It's sharp, and the citrus hits her hard even among all the other notes. She's surprised it still lingers, even after Jonathan rung it out and cleaned the shirt in her sink. She can still slightly smell the Dawn, buried even deeper underneath. It was easier to focus on that then the memories that want to rear their heads. </p>
<p>Like their final--temporary goodbyes. And even with just those words echoing in the walls of her own head, they cause some tears to slip out and shed, soaking the t-shirt below. She held them pretty well back when she watched the U-Haul back out of his driveway, why was it such an issue now?</p>
<p>A myriad of emotions cut away at her, fighting to see which one comes out on top. Longing, love, anger from the distance. All of them are veering for her attention, and they all stem from similar things. </p>
<p>But the one that wins at the end of the day is the former. Since she's now got yet another something to hold onto until he gets back. Another reason to rear her head up from the funk she's feeling right now. Thrown into the mix along with his mixtapes and polaroids. </p>
<p>Briefly Nancy worries she's growing sentimental for her age, and she laughs that off wetly, with a hand coming up to wipe the remaining tears. He might tease her if he saw her like this.</p>
<p>And she swears she'd take it in a<em> second</em> if it meant seeing him again. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>To her surprise that only comes about a few months later, in the back of an old alleyway while the other teens come up with a plan of attack. Because surprise surprise, the world might end again, and maybe ten, twenty other people can help prevent it.</p>
<p>There was a <em>lot</em> of new faces, Nancy couldn't help but notice. Ones that circle around El and greet her with glee written all over their faces.</p>
<p><em>The more the merrier,</em> she thinks. And maybe she might not have grumbled quite so much about it, given the situation, but it was very last minute, and her and Robin were <em>this</em> close to cracking down on something important with Mr-- </p>
<p>"Hey." It's Jonathan, who appears out of nowhere and seems to be all set with a familiar bat in his grip-- how he pried it from Steve she'll never know, even if he claims they share custody of it-- and he lets it fall out of his hands, seeing her.  </p>
<p>"Hey," she says back. Wishes she had anything more to offer than just a simple hey-- but then his arms immediately come around her to hold her tight, half lifting her up and she just doesn't <em>care</em> about her irritations anymore, when he presses kisses along her face and doesn't let up until she can feel Mike nudging her to get a move on. A wordless signal that<strong> something's</strong> coming.</p>
<p><em>Nothing they couldn't handle,</em> she thinks, even when she remembers clear as day the panic in Mike's eyes, and the matching tremors in her hands when he describes teeth, and metal skin, and beady eyes. Some eldritch horror she couldn't wait to get over with. Not like it mattered.</p>
<p>The outcome would always be the same. </p>
<p>Her and Jonathan were a team. An effective puzzle that connects well with the rest of their crew, and the monster won't know what's coming. </p>
<p>"Wait, Nancy," Jonathan speaks up, finally prying himself away so he can pick up his bat.</p>
<p>"Yeah?"</p>
<p>The bat's propped up onto his shoulder, but now he looks confused rather than serious.</p>
<p>"Not that I mind, really-- but is that my shirt?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*grumbles forever about the english language and how it forces you sometimes to repeat the same word in SUCCESION I JUST, AAAAAAAA*  </p>
<p>anyways thank you for reading this! hope you enjoyed~ &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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